


Immature

by The_Whip_Hand_81



Category: Chris Evans - Fandom
Genre: Annoying Chris, Catching Up, Chris the Frat Boy, Confessions, Drunk Reader, F/M, Office Sex, Reader birthday, Sexual Tension, Twin brother's best friend, cat and mouse game, childhood enemy, chris evans - Freeform, cold shower, golf caddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-13 12:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7976299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Whip_Hand_81/pseuds/The_Whip_Hand_81
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is your twin brother's best friend who comes back into your lives just as annoying and immature as you remembered. Thing is, Chris is not the same gangly kid you once knew. Now an adult and still a certifible dick, Chris wants a piece of you..... will you give it to him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This collage helps
> 
> http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f24/dancingninjas1981/IMG_20160906_173500_zpsg02oqijy.jpg

"[Y/N]....wake up. [Y/N]....wake up...[Y/N]...MOM SAYS TO GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED NOW! We have a visitor!" 

After avoiding your twin brother's pounding on your childhood bedroom door, you groan loudly and yell back, eyes still closed, "FIVE MORE MINUTES!" 

Your brother, Shawn, huffs, "The guest does not like to be kept waiting, [Y/N], and he insists on seeing you.."

You roll over onto your back, eyes sealed shut, half asleep and half wondering who this mystery person is. You and your twin brother are spending the week with your mother for your birthdays. Sleeping in your old bedroom from when you were a teen made you feel like you were in a time warp. What's worse is both you and your brother turn back into children under your mother's roof. You may be a legal assistant and your brother, a veterinarian, but you both always revert back to old childish ways when around your mother. 

You pull the duvet over your head and shout, "Tell whomever HE is to go fuck himself and let me sleep!" 

Suddenly, you hear an old familiar eruption of laughter on the other side of the door. Your eyes pop open, 'No, it can't be...' you think to yourself as your bedroom door bursts. You hear a set of footsteps that isn't your brother's enter your room and stop at the side of your bed. You freeze, praying it isn't who you think it is. You feel someone grab onto your duvet and - WHOOSH! - the blanket is pulled from off your entire body, revealing your tank and boyshorts. You squeal in embarrassment as the 'mysterious visitor' is who you thought it was: your brother's best friend, Chris, from junior high all the way through college. 

Chris cackles like a mad man, looking down at your sleepy yet scared face, "HAHAHA! RISE AND SHINE, CUPCAKE! WELCOME ME HOME!" He then grabs one of your ankles and proceeds to pull you off the bed. 

You scream out, "NO STOP! WHAT THE FUCK! CHRIS -!" He pulls your body off the bed and your body thuds onto the floor as he drags you behind him by your ankle as you struggle to free yourself. 

You flail your arms trying to grab onto something around you as he pulls your half naked body (in your underwear) down the hall while Shawn laughs, hysterically. You finally say the one word that's always been your safety, "MOOOOOOOOM!" 

Chris, your brother and you freeze in place, silently. Then a stern voice calls up from downstairs, "Boys, leave [Y/N] alone, please!" 

A cocky smile forms over your mouth as Chris drops your leg, shaking his head in disappointment, "You're still a fuckin' tattle-tell?" 

Shawn sighs, "Yup..even in her 30s." 

You stand up and brush the dust off your butt and shove Chris back as you pass to walk to the bathroom. There's a weird feeling on your backside as you're walking away as if someone's staring at your ass and you know it isn't your brother. 

***  
Shawn and Chris met in the seventh grade but didn't become best friends until they united to beat up a bully that was teasing the both of them. By eighth grade, they were inseparable. Chris was this skinny kid who was constantly over at your house for dinner, sleepovers and family gatherings - he essentially became another member of your family. After Chris' parents divorced, you saw even MORE of him (if that were even possible). And the more Chris came over, the more Chris became another annoying brother - if not, more so than Shawn. He would tease you mercilessly and went the extra mile to make you feel uncomfortable for his own pleasure. You don't know how you made it that long without killing him but, thankfully, by the time college came around, you went off to study in New York. No mother, no brother and no aggravating friend of brother.  
For years, Shawn kept you in the loop of Chris' life, even when you didn't care to know. You never kept in contact with him nor cared to 'friend' him on Facebook, either. Today is the first time you're seeing Chris and he is certainly not the same skinny kid anymore.  
***

You pull on your Yankees t-shirt and cut off jean shorts and pull on your beat up Converse sneakers before heading down for coffee. In the kitchen, your mother is serving up pancakes and bacon and eggs to your brother and Chris sitting at the island on stools. Chris with his backwards Boston Red Sox cap, notices your shirt and nearly chokes on his pancakes. "Oh, come on with that hideous shirt!" he looks at your brother for back up, "Is that really how you greet your guests? Take that shirt off, please,  [Y/N], you're offending me right now." 

You sigh as you take a seat across from the men and your mother serves you a plate of breakfast, "Oh, I can't hear you over the awesomeness that is my shirt.." 

Chris scarfs down mouthful of eggs as he protests to your brother, "You know, you would think that since she grew up in Boston that she'd show a little home town pride but, no. She goes off to New York City for school for a couple years and comes back a friggin' traitor." 

You politely smile and bring the mug of coffee to your lips, "Oh, I'm no traitor. I just know when one team is better than the other team.." you sip from your cup as Chris practically jumps from his stool to reach over the island for you when Shawn stops him. 

"What the fuck did she just say, Shawn?!" a bewildered Chris asks.

"Language," your mother nonchalantly pipes in.

"Sorry, ma..." Chris turns to look at you, "what the fudge did you just say, [Y/N]?" 

You snort so loud at him replacing the F word with fudge in such a rage that the coffee went up your nose. "OWW!" you grab your nose, pinching it, "You see what you made me do?" 

Your mother groans loudly and bangs the spatula on the frying pan for attention, breaking up the argument, "All right, enough already, guys. What are your plans for today?" 

You shrug and chew on a piece of bacon, "Dunno. Stay in, binge-watch something fun.." 

Chris looks at you with disgust, "Binge-watch something fun? [Y/N], there is no such thing as having fun binge-watching anything...unless it's porn," he arches a brow. 

"Ewwww," you recoil. 

Your mother slaps Chris in the back of his head, knocking his hat off onto his lap, "Would ya cut it out with the pornography talk already, Christopher?" 

He defends himself, "What? This is the first time I mentioned porn today!" 

"Christopher, you started the morning's conversation with me about celebrity porn videos....then, you proceeded to tell me which male celebrity's penis was larger than the other celebrity's penis. Give it a rest!" your mother nags. 

"Well, I digress," Chris turns his attention back to you and points his fork at you, "You are not staying in watching Netflix like the lonely old lady that you are. You are coming out with Shawn and I to the beer garden. It's your birthday for Christ's sake! Live a little!" 

You shake your head as you finish off your breakfast and hop off the stool, "Nope! I'm going to the livingroom to start my marathon of "Stranger Things"! See you losers later.." 

Your mother steps in front of you with gentle concern, "Honey, I love you so don't take offense when I say this but: get the fuck out of my house. Take her away, boys."

"HUH?" was all you had time to say before Chris picks you up and throws you over his huge shoulder as Shawn grabs your purse on the counter. "PUT ME DOWN, ASSHOLE!" 

"LANGUAGE!" your foul mouthed mother yells as they carry you out of the back door and into the driveway. 

At your red Honda Civic, Shawn takes the keys from your purse and opens the back door, Chris throws you in and jumps in with you. Shawn is at the wheel, preparing to pull the car out of the driveway as you struggle to sit up from a reclining position, but Chris swings his behemoth thighs onto your lap making it impossible to move from your now sitting position.

"What the fuck, Chris?! Get off me!" you yell, punching his firm thighs that was just hurting your fists. 

Chris smiles and shakes his head, "Sorry, [Y/N], I'm here to make sure you don't try to tuck and roll out this bitch."

You still try to hurt his thighs when you ask, "What the Hell? Do you take steroids, dude?! You're so thick!" 

Chris wriggles his brows at you, "That ain't the only thing that's thick, sweetheart." 

"Besides, why the Hell do you want me to go with you guys to the beer garden so bad?" you narrow your eyes in frustration. 

Chris lets out a subtle chuckle before answering as one hand brushes a strand of hair out of your face, "Because...I want to get you drunk..." he winks then flashes his huge smile. 

A chill goes up your spine, a feeling you've never felt with Chris before. A shiver of disgust or arousal? 

Shawn pulls the car out of the driveway as you contemplate your odd new feeling. 

**


	2. The Beer Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris is getting closer to peeling back your layers with the help of alcohol in your system...do you relent?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f24/dancingninjas1981/IMG_20160906_173500_zpsg02oqijy.jpg

Shawn pulls up to the beer garden "Sh*t Kickers" a few minutes later. Chris finally brings his thighs off your legs and hops out of the car, adjusting his red graphic tee and black slacks. Before you can slide out of the car, Chris purposely slams the car door in your face and points at your shocked face through the window. "No dogs allowed in the bar!" he teases as you swing the door open and climb out. 

"You're an asshole," you sneer at him passing by to get into the bar before you murder him. 

The inside of the bar was quite empty as it was only 12 noon so you walk out to the back of the bar and out to the garden where there was sunlight and fresh air. The yard was decorated with several wooden communal tables and a ping pong table complete with a jukebox toward the back exit. 

You plop yourself down on one of the empty tables and check your phone, pretending you were busy answering text messages when Chris swipes your phone from above you and puts it in the pocket of his black slacks. 

"HEY! Give that back!" you yell as Chris plops beside you fixing his backwards cap. 

"NOOOOOOOPE. You're suppose to be partying not pretending to text friends you don't have," he says making you feel like shit because that's exactly what you were doing," it's your birthday. You're gonna get hammered and hammered you shall be before this day is over." 

You shoot Shawn a look of anger across the table to which he just shrugs when Chris stands up, "Ok, so I'm gonna get the drinks and you just make sure your sister doesn't try to sneak out and leave us." He walks back into the bar. 

You begin your tirade on your twin, "Dude, what the fuck?! Why the Hell is Dickhead here?? Why did he come back to make me miserable? And whats more, why aren't you defending me against him?!" 

Shawn lets out a long sigh, "It's complicated..."

"What is? The fact that he's here to be an asshole or the fact that you're here to help him be an asshole?" you retort. 

"Look....Chris has been going through some shit lately and I thought it best he spend a couple days with us. Make him feel good for a while."

"Oh? And in turn make mine a living HELL?" 

Chris returns with a tray of drinks: 3 pints of beer and six shots. You roll your eyes, "One of those pints better me filled with apple juice cause I ain't drinking that." 

Chris places the pint in front of you, "What do you mean you're not drinking that? It's my gift to you. You have to take my gift. Don't offend me more than you already have with that ludicrous t-shirt you have on..." 

Shawn nudges your foot underneath the table and gives you a soft look to accept the drink for him. You loudly exhale and lift the glass, "Fine....thank you..." 

"You're welcome, [Y/N]," he smiles and raises his glass in the air, "To my best friend and his sister: Happy Birthday. Now lets get fucked up!" All three clink your glasses together. 

After two hours, two pints and two shots of tequila, you are feeling pretty free and loose. You haven't been drunk in a long time and, quite honestly, you weren't thinking about the ramifications of what the alcohol may do later. You were just trying to enjoy your drunken time with your brother and Chris because this is the only time you are able to tolerate Chris' antics. By this time, Shawn was inside the bar, talking it up with some blond woman, leaving you outside alone with Chris.

A waitress walks over and brings your table a pitcher of beer and Chris hands her a tip with his cell number written on the bill. You shake your head in disgust, "Does that shit actually work?"

"What?"

"Writing your number on a dollar bill and giving it to waitresses?"

"Oh, yeah..all the time..." he leans forward on his elbows. 

"Really?" you ask, amazed and drunk. 

"You think I can't get a chick to go out with me by using my charm?" he arches a brow as he looks at your stupified face. 

You snort, "I just don't think any woman would be so idiotic as to fall for your one liners, is all." 

"CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!" Chris slams his hand down on the table, jumps up and walks over to a fairly young woman sitting alone at the back of the yard, looking at her phone. 

You crane your neck to see Chris bend to her, asking her a question to which she nods. He sits down next to her on the bench and begins talking to her. The woman throws her head back with laughter as Chris' fingers lightly graze her outer thigh as he speaks to her. He then leans into her ear and the woman's face becomes serious and she nods. She then hands him her phone and he types in his digits, places a kiss on her cheek and bops his way back to you in a cocky stride. He sits down next to you and clears his throat, "And THAT is how you talk to a girl."

You shake your head, "You idiot, that doesn't mean she's actuallly gonna call y-" and before you could finish your sentence, Chris' phone rings. He picks up and sees its the woman across the yard. She waves over to him. 

"Wow...she's stupider than she looks.." you callously judge her before taking another swig of your beer. 

Chris becomes offended, "How dare you mock a fellow female for her taste in awesome men? What makes you a bonafide expert on the opposite sex anyhow?" 

"Oh, I know things..." you take a swig of your beer with confidence. 

"Do you now?" Chris pulls out your cell from his pocket and types in your passcode. Your eyes widen as you try to get it from his grip but you're too drunk and slow. All he has to do is push your head away with his massive hand on your forehead to hold your body back and away, keeping it out of your reach. 

"You don't even know my passcode, idiot!" your attempt to grab your phone still failing. 

Chris type something on the screen and shows you he opened it. Your mouth drops, "How did you...?"

"It's the same passcode for your email: Snuffy, your cat's name," he continues to look through your phone and comes across your photos and smiles. "Ho, now...you get on your fellow females for talking to guys like me, calling her stupid when here you are in this selfie...nearly naked...." his pink lips curve into a slow smile as he gawks at the photo and you jump up, screaming. 

"GIVE ME MY FUCKING PHONE!" you jump onto Chris' back, trying to choke him with your arms wrapped tightly around his neck but Chris ignores your pitiful strength and keeps staring with wide eyes at the photo you took for yourself dressed in nothing but your lacy peach bra, thong and garter belt with high heels in your bedroom mirror. 

Still in your grip, Chris asks, taking a swig from his glass as if nothing is bothering him, "Who exactly is the lucky dude you took this photo for, [Y/N]?" 

You stop struggling for a second to rest and catch a breath, arms still wrapped around his neck, "No one....why does a boudiour photo need to be taken for a man all the time? It was for me, okay? Now give it back..." your voice is slightly smaller now and face red. 

Chris never takes his eyes off the photo and sits quietly before speaking, "That's a shame. No man to send this to....oh, wait.." Chris types in his number and sends your scandelous pic to himself and cackles. 

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" you proceed to jump against him to strangle him to no avail. 

"You know, the more you try to choke me, the more I feel your beautiful tits pressing against my shoulderblades so please do continue...." he smiles and you immediately let go and plop beside him, sighing in defeat. 

Chris flings your phone back to your lap, "You remember when we made out?" 

You balk at his sudden question. You did. You remember it as if it were yesterday and you replay that night when you're trying to get yourself off in the middle of the night, but you didn't want to sound so eager. You shrug and nod, looking down at your drink, "Yeah..barely, but yeah."

Chris turns his body to you, his legs on either side of the bench as he looks at you sitting sideways not meeting his gaze. 

"New Years, 1997. Your house with your family and neighbors. Your mom invited me over to spend the night.."

You can feel your stomach tightening, the butterflies you felt that night as he retells you the story you've never forgotten and constantly wish to relive. 

"Everyone was gathered downstairs in the livingroom to count down to midnight and you and me were up in your room, door locked, sitting on your bed..." Chris takes a pause, his lashes lowering and looks away with a small smile, "You said you've never kissed a boy before and I told you I'd teach you...."

You shift a little, uncomfortable at the closeness of Chris' body to you now, his knee touching the side of your knee as he continues, "We were kinda sitting like this...me, facing you. I just remember you grabbing my face so fast and pressing your lips onto mine - you were so forceful!" He laughs thinking fondly. "And just after a few minutes of making out, your hand slides into my jeans...." you can feel Chris' eyes on the side of your face as you look off into the distance. 

He slides his body closer to you, both his knees enclosing your body. He leans inward, his alcohol breath warming your ear as he says in a low growl, "You sucked my dick and it was.....amazing...And, honestly? No woman has ever been able to suck my dick as good as teenage [Y/N] did all those years ago..." 

You swallow hard and press your lips together, trying not to move your thighs as the slightest friction may cause you to moan in pleasure from the flashbacks. You are finally able to get some words out, "Chris, why are you telling me this?" 

"Gotta be honest with you. Seeing your sexy selfie and feeling your awesome titties up against my back made my dick hard. I'd like to hit it, if I may," he says matter-of-factly. 

You dart your eyes at him and frown, repulsed by his candidness, "You are so fuckin' rude, Chris." 

To which Chris replies, "Rude? I said 'if I may'! How is that being fuckin' rude, you dummy!" 

Just as you are about to lay into him, a raucous is heard inside the bar like someone fighting. You and Chris stop arguing to look at each other, you both immediately know it has something to do with your brother. You both run inside. 

You stop at the entrance and see your brother wrestling a big guy with tattoos all over his body and face. The blond woman he was talking to before, at the side lines in shock. Chris quickly shoves the big guy away from your brother as you check on Shawn's face which is bleeding. "What the fuck happened, Shawn?!" you ask while Chris holds the other guy back. 

Shawn slurs his defense, "That asshole called me an asshole.."

"Lets get you home," you pat him on the back when the big guy yells back, "Yeah, listen to the stupid bitch....go home.."

Chris looks at the guy and points his finger in his face, "HEY! She may be a bitch but she's not stupid! She has her college degree in physics!" 

"-Law," you dryly correct.

"LAW! So you respect this woman!" 

"OH yeah? Why should I?" the brute asks as he hovers closer to Chris' face. 

And with pride, Chris announces, "Because she sucked my dick in high school!" And punches the brute in the face, knocking him to the floor. 

Shawn snaps his drunken eyes open in surprise, "YOU WHAT?!" he looks at you when you punch him in the face, knocking HIM to the floor.

You yell to Chris, "Hurry and help me get his ass into the car before he wakes up!" You grab his legs and Chris grabs his torso and you both scurry him into the backseat of your car, laying him down on the seat. 

In the car ride home, your hands grip the steering wheel so hard, your knucles are white. You're angry and embarrassed, hoping when Shawn wakes, he won't remember what Chris said. Chris is sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the window. Without warning, you put your foot on the break, stopping it short in the middle of the road, sending Shawn's passed out body to the car floor with a thud. 

"What the- " Chris begins when you tear into him.

"You don't get to talk right now. What the Hell are you trying to do?" you face him, steam coming out of your ears. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Coming back here, making my life difficult, telling me about our makeout session from decades ago and yelling to the world- AND BROTHER- that I gave you head?! What is the fuckin point to all this, Chris?" 

Chris inhales deeply and lets out a long sigh. He lowers his head and fiddles with his fingers like a child, his voice soft, "I guess...Shawn didn't tell you how things have been with me.."

"No, he hasn't!" 

"My mom died, [Y/N]."

Your jaw drops, you cover your mouth with both hands. "Oh my God. Oh my fuckin...Chris..." you pull him close to you and embrace him in a warm hug, "I'm so sorry, Chris..why didn't you tell me sooner?" 

"Because..I didn't want to ruin your birthday...."

A tear rolls down your cheek as you ask, "What was it? How did she pass?" 

Chris sniffles and presses his body deeper into yours, "It was cancer...it was very advanced. The doctors found some horrible, ugly looking thing growing out of her neck," he pauses, "actually it kind of looked like what you have...."

"What? Where?!" 

Chris lets you go and points to your face with a broad smile, "Oh, wait- that's your face!" And cackles, grabbing his left boob. 

"You motherfucker-" your tiny fists begin pummeling his shoulder and back as he laughs uproariously at his terrible joke, "Your mother is still alive, isn't she?"

"Alive and kickin! But I got you good!" 

"FUCK YOU!" you spit out.

"Promise?" Chris giggles some more as you slam on the gas and speed home. 

**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut coming next chapter! Stay tuned!


	3. The Caddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris is getting closer to your soft and gooey center...and that's not just metaphorically speaking...

After you and Chris dragged Shawn into his bedroom, you close the door to his bedroom so he can sleep it off. You head toward your bedroom with Chris at your heels when you stop and turn around to face him. 

"Can I help you?" your question; biting and unamused. 

Chris looks down at you with the eyes of a puppy, "Aren't we gonna...you know...get it in before your mom comes back home?" 

You sigh, annoyed, "We're not going to fuck, Chris. We're never going to fuck, okay? Get that through your skull. Please don't bring this up again." You walk away and into your bedroom, slamming the door. You lean against your door, head spinning from all the beers and shots, thoughts whirling. Every time you have a few too many it tends to make the blood in your veins rush straight down to your clit. All you want to do is have a nice thick penis shoved up your hole when you're inebriated. But, not Chris'. Definitely not Chris'. Why not? You don't want to give him the satisfaction of sleeping with him because then he'll win and you'll never live it down. 

You walk into your private bathroom and drink a couple of glasses of water to try to sober yourself up then walk back into your bedroom and collapse onto your bed. As you are blacking out, only one thought passing through your mind: You really want to fuck Chris. 

****

The next morning, a pounding headache awakens you. You groan as you come to realize that your slept all through the afternoon and night. You roll onto your stomach when your arm slaps something fleshy that isn't part of your body. You slowly open your eyes and adjusting to the light, you see a thick figure laying beside you. Opening your eyes wider, you see Chris' face in front of yours with a sleepy smirk, bright sparkling eyes, "Good morning, sunshine..."

"AAAAH!" you roll backward off the bed and onto the floor. You jump to your feet and check your body for clothing - you are fully clothed with what you had on yesterday. You sigh in relief. 

Chris stands up, himself clothed, chuckles, "That's the response I was looking for." 

"What the Hell are you doing in my room?" you scratch your head, now noticing cotton mouth.

"I asked your mom if I could surprise you and she agreed to this. Thought it would be funny..." he claps his hands and shouts, "Okay! Now get in that shower and lets go!" 

You lay down on your bed, flat on your back, an arm slung over your eyes, "What now?"

"We are going golfing today, my dear.." he opens and closes your drawers looking for something appropriate for you to wear. 

"I hate golf..." you groan.

"Well, we need a caddy so you're going....all your clothes are shitty. Lucky for you, I've picked up an outfit for you..." Chris picks up a shopping bag and flings the bag at your head on the bed. 

You sit up and look into the bag, pulling out a pink polo shirt with a short white pleaded skirt. You frown at the outfit then at a smiling Chris, "You do know this isn't the proper golfing attire, right? These clothes are more like tennis.." 

Chris sucks his teeth and snaps his fingers, disappointed in himself, "Shit! I thought it was for golf--ANYWAY! You're still coming and you're still wearing that."

You fold your arms over your chest, "No, I'm not." 

Chris tightens his lips and marches into your bathroom, turns on the shower, marches back into your room and bends down, swooping you up into his arms - bridal style. You scream and kick as he walks you into the bathroom and places you into the cold shower - fully clothed, screaming. 

"I HATE YOU, CHRIS EVANS! I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!" you scream, tears being washed away by the shower pressure as he cackles, running out before you could get him. 

***

An hour later, you find yourself dressed in the pink polo shirt and white pleaded mini skirt Chris bought you and waiting in the livingroom, fuming but feeling the need to go with them for some reason. Chris descends the stairs carrying his golf clubs dressed in a white polo shirt and black slacks with white gloves shoved in the back pocket. Shades on his eyes and his blue baseball cap on backwards, he drops the bag when he sees you. "I didn't think you were actually coming..." he says, surprised. 

"You threw my ass in the cold shower, I'm wide awake now," you yell back and notice your brother isn't around. "Where's Shawn?" 

"Too hung over. It's just me and you, kitten," he moves his brows up and down, "Now pick up my bag and load it into the trunk - I don't want to be late for my game." He heads out the door, leaving you to pick it up alone. You bend over and lift it up, slowly bringing it up and over your shoulders until it pulls you back, bringing you to the floor with it. 

***

At the golf course, Chris meets up with an older gentleman, an old friend of his mother's. You drove the golf cart and handed Chris is clubs as a real caddy but your patience was wearing thin. Chris kept slapping your ass for good luck and making you bend over to grab the T off the grass. Chris even tried to get his friend to believe you were his girlfriend, trying to prove to the old man you were completely devoted to him. "When we get home, draw me a bath, woman!" Chris demanded.

You snort and walk back to the cart, "I wouldn't draw you a cartoon." 

An hour later, tired, sweaty and running low on patience, you whisper to Chris that you are tired and want to go home. He silently watches his opponent take a shot, ignoring you when you ask again, slightly higher than a whisper. 

"I just want to go home. I don't want to be your slave anymore....let me go home."

To which Chris looks over to you and places one finger over his pink lips to shush you. That gesture makes you lose your mind. You begin to shout at the top of your lungs, interrupting the silence all over the course with your loud mouth. 

"I KNOW YOU DIDN'T JUST SHUSH ME! YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK YOU AND THIS OLD MAN AND FUCK THIS GAME! I'm out! Drive your own damn cart and carry your own motherfuckin' bag, asshole!" you storm off the course and into the clubhouse to get to the locker room where you stupidly left your purse inside Chris' locker. 

You enter the empty locker room and fiddle with the combination on Chris' lock when you realize you don't know the combination and slam your fist on the locker, pouting. 

"You are adorable when you're angry," Chris' voice calls from the entrance of the locker room a few feet behind you. 

You spin around and frown at him, "What's the number for your lock? I need to go." 

Chris walks up to the locker, opens the lock and the door and steps aside for you to grab your purse. You pull out your purse and turn to see Chris standing close, not budging. "Excuse me," you roll your eyes. 

He takes a step forward, you take a step back. He takes another step forward, you take another step back and bang into the lockers behind you. Chris breathes down onto you, chest heaving, eyes black, edging out the blue in them, "Why won't you give in?" 

"What?" 

"Why won't you just let me have you? One time...ONE time is all I ask," he pleads as you feel your core tightening. 

"Chris...why is this so important to you? We never had anything in the first place!" you shriek.

"I never got the chance to go all the way with you...." his rough hand gently carassing down your arm, "that night in your room...when you got me off...you freaked out and kicked me out of your bedroom before I could return the favor," his hand lightly touches your hand and dances to the front of your skirt, "let me do it now, [Y/N]. Let me thank you...." 

You freeze while Chris kneels down in front of your short skirt and one hand glides up your thigh, his eyes watching yours. "Let me lick your pussy till it's dry..." 

You choke out a gasp of want when suddenly a group of men enter the locker room, talking amongst themselves, unaware of what was happening. You snap out of your lustful situation and briskly walk out of the clubhouse and hail a cab back home, leaving Chris at the club.


	4. Back to Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to your own home and back to work, Chris is still on your mind...

~Two weeks later~

After the locker room incident, Chris returned to your mother's home to pack his things and say goodbye to your brother and mother. You were locked away in your bedroom blasting NSYNC like a mopey teenager until he left the house. Since then, your life has been back to normal. You're back at your own home and at work researching a case that could be huge for you and no word about Chris. No text, no rumors, no news from your brother - nothing. Just the way you want it. Yup. No bearded Chris to eye you from across the breakfast table with bedroom eyes. No drunken Chris trying his cheesy one-liners on you. No horny Chris knocking on your bedroom door at night begging for sex...nothing.............................'I should've fucked Chris when I had the chance.." you think to yourself as you gather a stack of folders into your arms to walk to your office down the hall. 

It's late Friday night and everyone else has gone home or out for a drink. You always take this quiet time to stay behind and get some more paperwork out of the way- you can concentrate better. Your ankles wobble in your black high heels, balancing your weight and the stack of folders in your arms as your beige pencil skirt butt pushes your office door open. You take two steps into your office when you hear a voice a few feet away, "Working hard." Yelping in fear, you fling the stacks of folders up in the air and it rains back down onto you and the floor. Your hand clutches your white bloused chest as you look over to the brown leather couch and see Chris wearing a dark blue button shirt with sleeves rolled up and faded blue jeans, reclinging on your couch, feet on the coffee table, tossing an orange from your fruit bowl into the air and catching it. 

"The fuck are you doing here, Chris?!" you yell and quickly bend down to gather your papers. 

He sighs and rises up from the couch and helps you with the papers, "We need to talk, [Y/N]." 

You straighten up with what you had in your hands and walk over to your desk, placing them down neatly. You turn to face him, "There's nothing left to talk about, Chris..."

He stands up, leaving the papers on the floor and walks over to you. An inch separates your bodies as you lean slightly against your desk. Chris' eyes burn into yours, his nostrils flaring, "You want this just as much as I do. I know you do." 

Vigorously shaking your head, you answer, "No, I don't..I don't want anything from you...please..go..." 

"Yes, you do! Don't lie to yourself, [Y/N]! I stopped lying to myself years ago." 

You pause, "Wait...'years ago'?"

"Yeah...I constantly asked Shawn about you..I follow you on Twitter, on Instagram...I may even stalk your Facebook page every so often to see how you've been...That night in your bedroom when we were kids, [Y/N]? I...You were the first girl to do anything sexual to me...you were my first..I just lied to look cool," he rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. 

Your mouth drops in surprise, "Even kissing??"

He silently nods. 

You still refuse, "I don't know, Chris..."

He interrupts, "Do you wanna know how crazy I am about you? I can't believe i'm about to admit this to you but one night I-I was so desperate to feel you...I put a pile of pillows together and began jerking off into the folds of the pillows, wishing it was you I was inside of..." 

Your breathing becomes erratic just picturing Chris' naked ass humping pillows, moaning your name as he comes undone. You clench your thighs tightly together and swallow hard as Chris closes the gap between you two. 

"My, God, Chris..." you nervously chuckle a little, "that was.....really embarrassing.." 

He brings his finger underneath your chin and tilts your face up to to lips almost tenderly. But, if you were going to give in to him, tender is not what you want.

So you push his buttons, "What happened to the bad ass frat boy who hates me?" 

Chris' eyes searches yours, "Is that who you want? I can bring him back for a few minutes." 

You bite your lower lip and nod, fiendishly, "If I'm going to do this, then yeah, that's who I want fucking me.." 

Chris arches his brow and gives you a smirk, "You dirty little skank..." 

Your hands find his belt buckle and begin undoing it when his hands stop you, "No, no. Go to the couch, pull that tight skirt up and bend over. Poppa wants to see what's under the hood." Excitedly, you walk over to the couch, pull up your skirt and bend over the side, holding onto the back of the couch standing in front of it. Chris pulls the coffee table away from your body and sits on it, his face in front of your lacy red panty covered ass. He slaps the side of your ass and orders, "Spread your legs." You do so as he pulls your panties down your thighs and knees. You lift one leg so he can pull them off you. 

Your ass gently wiggles from side to side, feeling his hot breath close to your ass cheeks and folds. He studies your ass and places kisses on both cheeks and behind your thighs. Chris then grabs both your cheeks, spreading them and starts eating your pussy from behind. You throw your head back with a pleasing yelp, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Chris inserts two fingers into your tiny rim as his long tongue devours your wet pussy, slurping and swallowing everything you had to drip. Your knees are wobbling and your grip on the couch is so tight, your fingers are hurting. 

"Fffffuuuck......ffffuck....Chriiiiiisssss...." you moan, backing your ass into his face for deeper contact. Chris pulls his face from your wetness, shoots up from the coffee table and turns you around, pushing you back onto the couch to lay down. Your glazed eyes looking up at his determined face, he's quickly unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. He pulls out his long hard dick and kneels down by your legs on the couch. He positions himself as he throws your legs up and open, resting your feet on his shoulders as he slowly enters you. You throw your head back into the couch, writhing in pain, "Aye...slow down, baby....you're a little big for me..." you plead. 

Chris pulls the tip out a little then re-enters again and snarls, "Is my cock too big for you, [Y/N]? Is my big cock hurting your tight little pussy?" 

You nod, innocently, "Yes...but..I want it...." 

"What do you want, baby girl?" 

"I want your big cock inside my pussy...I want you to come on me..." you whimper. 

Chris thrusts in, making your scream, "Is this what you want, baby?" He thrusts again, "THIS? HUH?!" Chris keeps thrusting into your hole. You pull your legs off his shoulders and sit up to pull Chris down by his neck and kiss him deeply while he thrusts. 

In between rolling your hips up into him and the kissing, you confess, under heaving breathing, "I haven't stopped touching myself since you left.."

"Oh, yeah?" thrusts into you, "tell me more..." 

"I--I play with my toy in the shower.." you roll your hips up into him, "and I think of you..."

"Mmmmm....fuck......what else do you do?" he asks, sweat dripping down his forehead.

"I play with my clit when I'm in bed....I stick my fingers in my pussy and pretend it's you...Aaah!" you are clenching hard around him. 

"FUCK!...Do you ever taste yourself for me?" he picks up speed, ramming into you harder. 

"Uhh-YES! YES!....AAAAAAAAH!" you scream as you come undone under him.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuck!" he yells as he pulls out of you and cums all over your stomach.

Chris falls onto the couch, out of breath. You lay there, skirt still up around your waist, now covered in semen, looking up at the ceiling. 

Both soaking in what had been building apparently for years, lay in silence. 

You break the silence, finally asking the question you've been afraid to ask for the last week and a half, "Does Shawn remember what you said about me giving you head in high school?"

Chris nods, looking at the ceiling, "Sure does.."

"Shit."


End file.
